A/N: Who had "Viper vs The Adults in Pete Mitchell's Life" on their bingo card?
(As this is a civilian setting, however, Viper shall again not be going by his call sign.)
Welcome back to Fort Worth Social Services. Again.

Week 11 - UDC 10 - "Where have you been, Lieutenant Commander?"

51. Heretofore

As Mike got out of his rental car, he stared at the building. Was he even in the right place? Would they even know where Pete was? He sighed, trying to quell his anxiety that had only built since his run-in with Miss Lowell, whose reaction to seeing him still didn't make sense. Sending him to Arlington instead of the local Social Services office didn't make sense, either, even if Officer Santos had seemed like he'd wanted to laugh at that. The more he thought about that, about the misdirection on purpose, the less sense it made.

Grabbing both files from the passenger seat, a picture slid out and Mike reached in to grab it, only to find his wingman and his Godson smiling back at him in black and white. "Oh Rick..." The sound of his own voice startled him, and Mike blinked his eyes clear.

Inside the building, he was met with activity and was directed to sit in a chair, in a line of chairs that seemed to function as a waiting area. Watching these people bustle around with files of their own was anything but relaxing and he opened the case file again to review the details that made his heart ache at how bad it must have been. His eyes narrowed at a witness statement, suddenly realizing that it actually did make sense, that Miss Lowell would have sent him out of his way on purpose if she didn't trust him, which he'd given her no reason to.

"Sir?" The voice belonged to a woman who'd stopped in her tracks, a file in her hands. "You know, it's not often we're visited by the Navy. Can I help you?"

Mike nodded and closed the case file to find the picture, and handed it to her. "I'm looking for my friend's son. He'd be about twelve now, I think."

She took the picture and studied it, glanced at him with raised eyebrows, and then looked at the picture again. "I'll be right back."

52. Unbeknownst

Sheila's first stop was Alan's desk, to compare the boy in the picture to the one in the picture he'd framed and hung on the wall behind his desk that he'd gotten from the Bradshaws. Looking at it caused her to chuckle at how big the jacket clearly was on Pete's small frame, and then she held the snapshot up side by side. "Oh. I'm right."

"Right about what?" Dorinda's voice asked from behind her and then she looked at what Sheila was doing. "Oh."

"There's a man out there in service khakis," Sheila explained as she turned and gave the picture in her hand to Dorinda. "He had that and said he was looking for his friend's son."

Dorinda nodded as she studied the little boy seated on his father's shoulders. "I know that tone. No kicking him out, Sheila. Not your call, anyway."

Sheila sighed. "I heard the stories from Harry about those placements that didn't work."

"We all did, but it would still be bad to kick him out without letting Alan speak to him."

"True."

"And really? The boy in this picture is a darn sight happier than the one who, until a month ago, was sleeping on our break room couch every Friday like clockwork."

Sheila glanced back at the group picture on the wall. "It's been a month?"

"Time flies, doesn't it?"

53. Henceforth

Mike was starting to get impatient when the woman returned with a co-worker who studied him and then handed the picture back to him. "So..."

"So we have to wait for one of our Social Workers to get back from a home site assessment," one of them explained. "I'm Dorinda and she is Sheila. Your name, sir?"

"Mike." Why did he have the funny feeling that Sheila hadn't liked him on sight? "Is there something wrong?"

"Depends on your definition," Sheila told him. "How did you end up here to ask us about this boy?"

Mike sighed. "Well, first I went to the house that was the last known address of my friend's wife, and then a touchy red head sent me to the police station. I didn't find out why she'd have been so touchy until I started reading the case file they gave me."

Dorinda frowned and held a hand out. "Can I look at it?" He gave it to her and she paged through it with a neutral expression before nodding. "Ah. I have a phone call to make. Did she also tell you to go to Arlington?"

"How'd you know that?"

"Oh, sir. The things I know here... and while it would be entertaining to see you talk to Harry Burrows, you'd still end up back here afterwards, so you were saved a trip."

Sheila watched as Dorinda handed the file back and then went to make her call. "I think that's the closest I've ever seen her come to laughing in someone's face at work."

"This isn't funny," Mike pointed out.

"You don't know the particulars yet, Mike. Part of it kinda is."

54. Notwithstanding

He got as far as the waiting area upon arriving back at the office and Alan was perplexed at the sight of Sheila's stiff posture, as close to seething as he'd ever seen her. "What did I miss?"

Sheila blinked at him, then motioned to a man that he hadn't seen yet, and Alan turned to look, suddenly realizing it was someone in Navy service khakis. "We have an interesting visitor, looking for the son of his friend, who should be about twelve now."

Alan paused as he stared at the officer, now a Lieutenant Commander instead of a Lieutenant. "Well. Guess I don't have to go to the base and ask fruitless questions after all. Where have you been, Lieutenant Commander?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You... you know this guy?"

Dorinda joined them just then, smiling. "Miss Lowell and Mr. Finney will be here in a bit, along with both of the Bradshaws, and maybe Sheryl Tomkins if Helen can reach her." Alan glanced at her and she shrugged. "He has the police report. There's only one way they would have given it to him at the station, Alan."

"That's a good point. And it's more that I have a picture on my desk, Sheila, that I was going to ask questions about when I got the chance, just to see if I could get answers." Alan looked long and hard at the officer, assessing him. "Your friend wouldn't happen to be Richard Mitchell, would it, Officer Metcalf?" At his nod, Alan held out his hand, which Metcalf shook. "Alan Jenkins. I'm Pete's social worker. How's about we continue this in a conference room?"

Metcalf stared at him. "You mean I'm in the right place after all?"

"You are. Seriously, where were you all this time?"

55. Forevermore

In the conference room, Alan studied the file that Mike had brought with him. "You still haven't answered my question, sir."

"Mike," he told him. "Or Viper. And I was out on deployment often, with no idea of where to look because Nora didn't come to Miramar when her father got sick. I needed my wife to remind me that she had family here in the area, and then Linda tracked down a few details while I was deployed. What picture do you have that you were going to ask questions about?"

Alan got up and left the room, then came back shortly and handed it to him, and that was when Mike understood the ready acceptance. "Found that in boxes that Miss Lowell and Mr. Finney have, when we were deciding what to give to Pete a month ago. The other pictures didn't have you in them, and, well..."

"Answers. Got it. I think Linda talked to a clerk or two at the base who weren't all that helpful, either." Mike sighed. "This whole situation would have been easier if it weren't for Duke's death getting classified as MIA." Alan stared at him. "What?"

"Details," Alan said simply. "And if I'm understanding right, you can't tell me the rest. Particularly the where and the how."

"No, I can't. The State Department ordered everyone to silence."

Alan sighed heavily. "Not well enough, Lieutenant Commander. Really not."